Sticks and Stones
by elbcw
Summary: Aramis and Porthos have an argument, almost leading to a fight. But is everything as it seems?
1. Chapter 1

**Authors note: I've taken some liberties with the timeline of the series, (Doctor Lemay is not dead 'cos I like him and was annoyed when they killed him off!) consider it a bit AU if that helps. I was tempted to give this piece the subtitle of 'plot hole' I think I've plugged them all, my apologies if I have not…**

**It's Aramis and Porthos whump (but mainly Aramis).**

Chapter One

The tavern was busy. A group of soldiers from a different garrison had returned to Paris after several months away. They were celebrating their return loudly, raising cups of wine frequently and shouting at each other.

D'Artagnan followed Athos across the room, they skirted around a couple of women who were plying their trade to some of the soldiers and earning themselves appreciative shouts and probably enough trade to keep them both busy for the next couple of nights.

Porthos and Aramis were already sat at a table away from the soldiers. A bottle of wine between them. It was clear that Aramis had been drinking for a while. Aramis was busy talking to the serving women who did not look impressed. Aramis' usual charm seemed to have left him as the alcohol took its toll.

The evening progressed pleasantly enough to start with, but Aramis managed to spill a cup of wine at one point and almost caused an argument with the neighbouring table. Athos bought the men at the table a round of drinks to appease them.

It was not often that Aramis was the one of the four of them who had drunk too much. Athos usually took that role. One or the other of the rest of them would see him home after he had been sat silently drinking in the corner of whichever tavern they had ended up in. Athos was a quiet drunk, not particularly violent but did need to be looked after firmly.

Aramis tended to become a bit verbose, which was what had happened during the evening. D'Artagnan wondered aloud if the wine had not been watered down as much as usual and had affected their friend, who had been the first to arrive at the tavern, more than it usually would?

Porthos had been drinking the wine and seemed to be heading in the same direction as Aramis. Getting a bit too boisterous as the wine began to affect him.

Porthos had decided that he would be the one to see Aramis back to the garrison at the end of the evening, describing him as a damsel in distress. The light-hearted comment had not been taken well by the inebriated Musketeer, causing him to lean forward and point a finger at Porthos. Almost at Porthos, Aramis was pointing slightly to Porthos' left and his finger wavered quite a bit as he spoke.

'I can look after myself,' said Aramis with indignance.

'You'd never survive on the streets,' retorted Porthos with a snort as he took another swig of wine, he had almost drunk as much as his friend.

Aramis leaned back again, 'at least I didn't end up relying on stealing to survive, and have to live with that regret.'

D'Artagnan glanced at Athos who looked a little concerned at the direction the remarks between the two men were taking. Porthos' response equalled Aramis' and perhaps exceeded it.

'I'm not a bastard, who needed rescuing from a whore house, by his father, before he was forced to sell himself…'

Aramis stared at Porthos for a few seconds as the words sank in. They all knew a little about each other's backgrounds, but rarely really talked about their younger lives. It was clear to d'Artagnan that Porthos had managed to say something that had hit Aramis hard. Despite his charm and poise, Aramis was the lowest born of the four of them. It was not something that had ever caused an issue. Had Porthos just used the fact that he now knew he was really of noble stock against his friend?

The two men had always seen a kindred spirit in each other due to the upbringing they believed they both had, even if Aramis had been luckier in later childhood than Porthos.

Aramis pushed himself up from the table.

'Your real family, the noble one, was not a particularly good example of the aristocracy, so I don't see why you've become all high and mighty…'

Aramis had shouted at Porthos, his words slurred. Porthos pushed his chair back and rose from his seat, squaring up to Aramis. Athos stopped d'Artagnan from standing when it appeared their two friends might come to blows. The older man seemed to know that the drunk Musketeers would not cause any more of a scene than they already had.

After staring at each other for a few seconds Aramis walked off. He stumbled a couple of times and had to be steadied by one of the soldiers from the other garrison at one point. The slighted man took a seat at a table closer to the fire, sat with his back to the rest of them. Porthos sneered at his friend before sitting back down heavily.

Athos shook his head, 'I will make sure he comes to no harm...it will make a change for me to look after one of you.'

Porthos was looking away, it was evident he was embarrassed and annoyed at the argument, fueled by wine and a long day in the heat of the summer sun. They knew the two men had not meant any of the vitriolic remarks. Once they had sobered up they would apologies, probably tease each other a little and then carry on as normal. Their friendship was too strong.

After a few minutes of warily watching his friend across the tavern, Porthos turned back to d'Artagnan and Athos.

'Sorry,' he said.

'Why are you apologising to us? You were both as bad as each other,' said d'Artagnan with a smile.

'Yeah,' said Porthos with another glance at Aramis who had been given another cup of wine by a couple of soldiers they recognised from the other garrison. 'He's rubbish when he's had a drink.'

'You are not much better, Porthos,' said Athos with a shake of his head.

Porthos nodded.

'I'll apologise to 'im in the morning when we've both sobered up a bit.'

'See that you do,' said Athos.

MMMM

_The following morning..._

To anyone watching the four men as they walked through the city, there would be nothing untoward. But to anyone that knew the four soldiers, it would be obvious that something was amiss.

Aramis was walking a little behind the others, his hat pulled low over his eyes. The astute observer would have spotted the Musketeer was suffering from too much alcohol the previous day and was now trying to hide it.

Treville had despatched his best men to look for an escaped prisoner. The Captain had told them the prisoner had been seen near some storage barns. The Musketeers were sent to recapture the condemned man.

'You need to at least pretend to be fit, Aramis,' said Athos loudly enough to not need to turn around.

'I'm fine,' came the surly reply.

Porthos smirked, 'guess I can 'old me drink better then.'

Porthos glanced back at his friend and laughed again, Aramis scowled at him.

Athos allowed the pair to get a little further ahead of himself and d'Artagnan before speaking to the younger man. They were far enough behind to speak normally.

'Have they apologised to each other yet?'

D'Artagnan shook his head, 'I think Porthos might have just blown his chance of getting an apology. Aramis said to me earlier he had every intention of talking to him, but after that remark, I don't think Aramis will be ready for a while.'

Athos shook his head, 'we had better keep an eye on them, the sooner we get this building searched the better. They nearly came to blows earlier, I do not want a repeat of that in public.'

The two Musketeers hurried to catch their friends up, keen to prevent any further arguments, or worse, between the two men.

The four men entered the derelict building. The dust motes that had been hanging in the air were disturbed, dust kicked up as they walk. The building had clearly been empty for some time.

Aramis had moved closer to a flight of steps, reaching out a hand to steady himself on the steps. Porthos smirked again, d'Artagnan shook his head in annoyance at his friends, as he wandered over towards a wall. Their behaviour was not a good example.

Athos signalled for them to stop. They listened, a creak above them made them all look up, all except Aramis who was rubbing his hand across his forehead, the headache he had been suffering from causing him to finally become distracted.

For a split second none of them moved, the shock at what was happening rendering the four men paralysed. Athos was the first to react, he pushed d'Artagnan ahead of him, propelling him from the building as the first of the wooden beams crashed down. The old building was collapsing. Years of neglect having caught up on it.

Porthos, acting on instinct, seemed to realise that Aramis would be slowest to react. He grabbed the Musketeer by the arm and pulled him around, spinning the confused man towards the doorway. Aramis stumbled, losing his footing as he left the collapsing barn ending up sprawled across the ground.

The dilapidated building continued to fall, the roof caving in as the walls crumbled.

Athos hooked his hands under Aramis' arms and dragged him further away, both men were covered in dust and dirt.

Aramis twisted around, staring at the building as d'Artagnan took a few steps forward.

'Porthos!' yelled Athos as he released Aramis and straightened up.

There was no sign of the soldier escaping the barn.

Athos put his hand on d'Artagnan's shoulder pulling him back in line, away from the cloud of dust that was billowing from the now fully collapsed building.

Aramis scrambled up, his headache forgotten, and started moving forward with purpose, looking for his missing friend. Both Athos and d'Artagnan grabbed him, he tried to shake them off shouting his friend's name.

'No, Aramis,' said Athos firmly, 'he can't have survived that…'

The three friends stared at the collapsed barn, the dust not quite settled on what had become Porthos' final resting place.

After a few minutes, Athos let Aramis go. The Musketeer slowly walked towards the rubble that had been the brick-built barn. He stood at the edge and crossed himself. D'Artagnan started to walk up and down looking at what was little more than a pile of bricks and wood, searching for any sign of the body of their friend.

'Why didn't he get out? He was right next to me...he...he pushed me out of the way...he saved me…'

Athos rested his hand on Aramis' shoulder, 'it could have been any one of us, it could have been all of us.'

Aramis turned away and walked a few paces before turning back, 'I was going to apologise...about last night, but then he laughed at me so I didn't...now I can't…'

Trying, and failing, not to allow tears to spill from his eyes Aramis turned away again and walked off.

'Will he be alright?' asked d'Artagnan.

'I don't know,' replied Athos before he turned back to the remains of the building.

MMMM


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

_Three days earlier…_

'Nearly there,' said Porthos unable to hide the concern from his voice.

Aramis was struggling to remain upright, Porthos was taking most of the man's weight. His friend looked ashen and was taking stumbling steps. Porthos had no idea what had caused his friend to be taken ill so suddenly. One minute they had been laughing and joking in the tavern, the next Aramis was doubled over in pain.

After briefly checking if his friend was injured Porthos had pulled him up to stand and started to practically drag Aramis back to the garrison.

As he made his way into the training yard, Athos and d'Artagnan hurried over, the concern etched on their faces. D'Artagnan moved to Aramis' other side and pulled him straighter.

'What happened?' asked Athos as he walked beside Porthos shooing a couple of cadets out of the way as he went.

'Don't know. He was fine one minute...then like this, he's not injured. He must be sick.'

'Put him in the room at the back,' said Athos, 'if he is contagious, we do not want it to spread. We will have to separate ourselves from everyone else as well.'

Porthos did not like the idea that whatever Aramis had was something that could spread to the rest of the garrison. He wondered if he should not have brought his brother back. Had he just caused problems for them all?

Athos pushed the door to the infirmary open. Lemay, the court physician, was sat beside the bed of a cadet who had been injured during a sparring match. The cadet had received a nasty injury which had initially been tended to by Aramis but their field medic had recommended that a proper doctor should look at the wound.

Lemay watched them with confusion.

'He's sick,' said Porthos simply.

'I can see that, get him on a bed.'

Athos shook his head, 'we need to isolate him-'

'I think it would be too late for that now,' said Lemay pointing at the bed next to him.

Porthos helped Aramis onto the bed, the Musketeer did not lie down, he remained sitting on the edge of the bed. Lemay crouched down in front of him, feeling his skin.

'Describe your symptoms,' said Lemay looking at Aramis carefully.

'It feels like...my stomach is...on fire,' Aramis managed to say between gritted teeth.

'What have you eaten?'

Porthos moved next to Lemay and started to undo Aramis' doublet pushing the jacket off his shoulders. Aramis was soaked through with sweat.

'We've been at the Palace all day together, we both had the same thing for lunch,' said Porthos.

'I'm going to give you an emetic, Aramis, whatever it is we need you to throw it up.'

The doctor looked at Aramis for a few seconds before Aramis nodded. The doctor moved off to gather what he needed. Porthos continued stripping his friend with d'Artagnan's help. Aramis allowed them to manipulate him, which worried Porthos. Aramis was never a good patient, unless he was badly injured or ill.

'I don't think he's ill with a contagious disease, I think he's been poisoned,' said Lemay as he began mixing together the emetic.

'What has he had, that you have not, Porthos?' asked Athos.

Porthos had moved to sit next to Aramis and slung his arm around his friend's shoulders, he knew Aramis would dislike drinking the emetic and wanted to keep hold of him in case he lashed out at Lemay whilst not thinking straight.

He thought about their day. They had been together since they left the garrison that morning. The only time they had been apart was briefly in the tavern when he had been talking to the tavern keeper to order their wine and food.

Porthos looked up suddenly, 'the wine!'

Lemay had returned to the bed with the cup of liquid, he pulled up a chair and sat in front of Aramis.

'Drink this, it'll taste foul, but it should make you sick.'

Aramis reached out a shaking hand and took the cup, Porthos steadied his friend as he forced the liquid down his throat. D'Artagnan had put a bucket next to them and stood back. Porthos glanced up to see the looks of concern still on each of their friend's faces.

Athos was looking at Porthos, 'the wine?'

Porthos did not look up from Aramis as he replied, 'he'd drunk about half a cup of wine by the time I got to the table. It wasn't long after that he started complaining.'

'I will talk to Treville,' said Athos. 'This needs to be investigated. Will he be alright?'

Lemay had moved to support the ill man as the emetic started to work, 'I don't know,' he said honestly.

Porthos wished he could do more to help his friend as Aramis threw up again. The fact that they had not eaten for several hours meant that Aramis did not have much in his stomach to throw up, he was clearly uncomfortable and exhausted after a few minutes.

'Are you done?' asked Porthos when Aramis had not moved for a few seconds.

Aramis managed a nod. Between them, Porthos and Lemay pushed the ill man to lie down on the bed. Aramis still looked awful, he moved to lie on his side, his eyes closing.

'Let him sleep,' said Lemay, 'there's nothing more we can do for now.'

Porthos took the seat that Lemay had used and set it close to his friend, determined not to leave his side until he was recovered.

MMMM

_The next morning..._

Treville nodded towards d'Artagnan and Athos who were sat at the table talking quietly, he indicated for them to follow him and Lemay towards the infirmary.

Curious and concerned, the two Musketeers were quick to follow their Captain. D'Artagnan closed the door as he entered looking at the assembled men.

Aramis, who was now sat up in bed, still looked pale and fatigued but he seemed a lot more alert than he had the previous evening. Porthos had taken a lot of persuasion to leave Aramis' side for a few hours during the night. Athos had suggested he get Treville to order the man to rest before Porthos had finally acquiesced and moved as far as another bed in the infirmary to sleep for a few hours.

D'Artagnan had relieved Athos after a few hours but not spent much time alone as Porthos woke early and continued his silent vigil over his sleeping friend.

They had all been shocked to realise that Aramis had been drugged, it had also been concerning that the drug was clearly meant for both Aramis and Porthos. It had only been luck and the presence of the doctor that prevented the situation from being much more serious.

D'Artagnan could see that Porthos was haunted by the events, he wondered if his friend somehow thought that what had happened was his fault? Athos, after a brief word with Aramis, moved to stand by d'Artagnan. They looked towards Treville in anticipation.

The Captain gestured to Lemay that he was free to talk.

Lemay glanced at them each in turn, 'I did some tests on the contents of Aramis' stomach,' he began.

D'Artagnan noticed Aramis close his eyes for a few seconds, no doubt remembering the discomfort he had been in the night before.

'I think the reason the drug affected you in such a way is that you are allergic to one of the ingredients...I don't know which, but suspect it is something you would not normally ingest anyway, so don't worry about coming into contact with whatever it is again...unless you are drugged with the same thing.'

'Were we drugged in an attempt to kill us?' asked Aramis, with a glance at Porthos.

Lemay shook his head, 'the component parts of the drug, from what I can tell, would have made you aggressive.'

The Musketeers looked at each other.

'Why?' said Porthos.

Lemay shook his head, 'that is not for me to speculate. I can only tell you what I've found out from my analysis.'

The doctor moved to sit on the bed next to Aramis, who allowed him to feel his skin and look him over.

'How are you feeling?' asked the physician.

'Honestly,' said Porthos with a friendly glare at his friend.

Aramis managed an unusually shy smile before responding, he did not like being the centre of their attention under such circumstances. D'Artagnan sympathised with him.

'Tired, weak, but my stomach feels fine now, your quick thinking is appreciated,' he said with a nod of gratitude to Lemay.

'What would have happened if you hadn't given him the emetic?' asked Porthos.

Lemay shook his head, 'I have no idea, the drug would probably have worked it's way out of his system, but I have no way of knowing what long-term effects it would have had.'

'And I am in no hurry to find out,' said Aramis.

There was a pause in the conversation as each man contemplated what could have happened to their friend without the timely intervention of the doctor.

Treville was the first to speak, 'we still have to find out who did this,' he said. 'I have been talking to the doctor and have a proposition for you all.'

He paused looking at each man in turn. Lemay shifted a little awkwardly, d'Artagnan got the impression the doctor was not entirely happy with what the Captain was about to say.

'It is likely the person responsible will try again...I want you to let him.'

Porthos took an angry step forward, Treville continued before the Musketeer could speak.

'Precautions will be taken to prevent any harm coming to you and to stop a repeat of last night for Aramis.'

Despite how pale he was Aramis looked a little embarrassed at the continued reminders of what he had gone through.

Lemay had stood up and moved to stand by Treville, 'you will each be given a mixture of herbs that will counteract the drug before you have taken it. The drug will be neutralised before it gets a chance to affect you, in any way.'

Lemay glanced at Aramis who nodded his understanding.

'All of us?' asked d'Artagnan.

'Yes, as a precaution,' said Treville.

D'Artagnan knew his Captain was correct. If he and Athos had been at the tavern with Aramis and Porthos the previous night they would most likely all have shared the same bottle of wine.

'Do you think the intention was for us to be aggressive to other people or each other?' asked Porthos. 'What was their aim in drugging us?'

'We cannot know that until we have caught them,' said Athos. 'Perhaps it would be best if, or when, they strike again you are aggressive to each other, we do not want to get any innocent people involved in this.'

'I don't like this. What if the herbs don't work? It could make Aramis sick again,' said Porthos. 'What if it doesn't work?'

Treville replied, 'there are issues, I will admit, but this is something we need to get to the bottom of quickly. I am sorry to effectively be using you to catch this man or woman, but I cannot see another way. We will make sure that you are all watched carefully. If the poisoner is seen to tamper with your wine, we will arrest him, but I want to take this precaution in case we cannot prove who it is. I think we should try to recreate what happened last night to give the poisoner a second chance, but this time you can act as though they have succeeded. I will have men watching everyone around you to try to spot someone behaving oddly.'

'What, someone who appears to be enjoying seeing us have a go at each other?' asked Porthos.

It was obvious Porthos was still not happy with the Captain's plan.

'Lots of people will enjoy seeing two soldiers having a fight or argument,' agreed Aramis. 'Remember a couple of weeks ago when you'd had a couple more drinks than normal and that Red Guard picked a fight with you,' he continued looking at Porthos. 'There were loads of people watching and encouraging the two of you…'

They all looked at each other as Aramis trailed off, realising what he had just said.

'This ain't the first time we've been targeted,' said Porthos, his eyes wide. 'They already drugged me. I struggled to remember that night. D'Artagnan had to tell me what happened. And I hadn't drunk that much more than anyone else.'

The implication that the unseen attacker had been responsible for Porthos' behaviour weighed heavily on them all.

Treville broke the silence.

'I know this is not a very good plan,' he said, 'but it's the best I can come up with. Lemay will check whatever you drink afterwards and see if it was drugged.'

'And we are kept under surveillance by our friends until we catch the person responsible for making Aramis ill and causing Porthos to get into a fight?' asked Athos.

'No,' replied Treville with a sigh, 'I think we can try this two or three times. We cannot keep trying it, I cannot spare the men.'

D'Artagnan watched his friends' reactions. It was not a good plan, and there was a big chance nothing would come of it, which in turn led to further issues.

'What if they try again at a later date? There was a gap between them slipping me the drug and trying to get us both last night. We can't continually take a counter drug,' said Porthos, the exasperation at the situation clear in his tone.

'I know,' said Treville, 'but it is the best we can come up with at the moment.'

MMMM


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

'What'll we do?' asked Porthos.

Aramis looked up from his book, Porthos was looking at him quizzically.

'About what?'

'When we get drugged next time. What'll we do? Fight?'

Porthos paused, his expression turned a little cheeky.

'I don't want to hurt you.'

Aramis put his book down and looked at Porthos.

'I was distracted that time, and you know it. I can hold my own against you...I can't win, but I can do pretty well.'

Porthos smirked, Aramis shook his head, his friend liked to remind him of the time he knocked him out when they were demonstrating evading a punch to some cadets. Poor Porthos had been devastated at the time but had quickly found the event a source of amusement.

But, thought Aramis, Porthos had a point, they needed to plan what they would do.

Lemay had given Aramis leave to return to duty, but Treville had insisted that his Musketeer rest for a few more hours, saying he still looked pale. In truth Aramis was glad, although he no longer felt ill, he was still tired. He had not slept well and the toll of purging himself of the drug had left him feeling weak.

They had decided that they would all go to one of their frequent haunts the next day to give Aramis a fair chance to fully recover. It had been decided that they would order two bottles of wine separately, the wine would be watched by Musketeers in disguise. If the poisoner was spotted tampering with the wine they would be arrested, then and there. If they were not actually seen to put the drug in the wine but were seen acting suspiciously the wine would have to be drunk.

Lemay had told them that if the wine had been drugged it might taste slightly odd after each of the Musketeers had taken the preventative concoction, he was mixing up for them. If the wine tasted normal it would probably not have been drugged.

Aramis did not like the plan, none of them did. There were too many unknowns.

'I think we should just have a verbal argument, real personal insults...if that's alright?' said Porthos.

Aramis replied, 'that would work, we could square up to each other and then...I don't know...I could walk away annoyed with you.'

Porthos nodded his approval, 'hopefully whoever is drugging the wine will react, perhaps follow one of us to see what we do next.'

Porthos sat on the bench next to his friend. Aramis could tell he was still struggling to accept the plan.

'Let's just hope he's caught in the act,' said Aramis, 'then it can all be sorted out without us having to enact the rest of the plan.'

MMMM

Athos and d'Artagnan walked towards the tavern, they had given Porthos and Aramis a head start. The idea was for Aramis to pretend to have drunk a bit too much and Porthos was going to offer to see him home, causing Aramis to become defensive.

'Do you think this will work?' asked d'Artagnan.

'I hope so,' replied Athos, 'I do not particularly want to have to drink that preventative concoction again.'

D'Artagnan grinned, 'I think Porthos would need holding down next time, Lemay had to get out of the way pretty quickly when he slammed the cup down after drinking it.'

None of them had found drinking the foul-tasting mixture easy, but Porthos had shouted at Lemay after downing the liquid. The doctor had retreated to the other end of the room and watched the Musketeer warily for several minutes afterwards.

Now they were walking into the tavern. Aramis and Porthos were sat together at a table in the busy inn. Soldiers from a different garrison, some of whom Athos recognised, were sat together. Their noise dominated the room.

Athos looked around, he spotted Barbotin and Pierre stood together at one side of the tavern. The two Musketeers were out of uniform and had made themselves look dirty to hide their identities. Out of uniform, they were less likely to be recognised, but they did not want to take the risk that the unknown attacker knew any of the other Musketeers. The two men nodded subtly but otherwise did not acknowledge him.

A bottle of wine was already on the table, both Aramis and Porthos had been drinking. As Athos sat down Porthos leaned into him and spoke quietly.

'Pierre passed us by not long after the wine was brought to the table. They think it's been drugged, they saw someone near it, but some of the soldiers were in the way at the crucial moment. They're both keeping an eye on the man they think did it...'

Porthos took another swig of wine from his cup. Athos sighed, he hated that his friends were putting themselves in danger. They were still worried the herbs Lemay had made them drink would not be enough to stop Aramis from being ill again, but they knew he had to drink from the same bottle to keep up the pretence. Aramis had agreed to alert them the moment he felt ill.

As the evening progressed, they enacted their plan. Aramis gradually became more and more talkative, Porthos became a bit boisterous. Athos made occasional glances to Barbotin who was watching another corner of the room intently as Pierre pretended to talk to him. It was clear the man they thought was responsible was still there. Athos could not work out who it was. He looked back at Aramis and made a sign for him to move onto the next phase of their plan.

Aramis went to stand and knocked over d'Artagnan's cup of wine before stumbling back a couple of steps and knocking into the neighbouring table. The market traders sat there were big men, used to heaving heavy bags around. One of them stood up and grabbed Aramis, who tried to push the man off him.

Athos took his role as peacemaker, breaking up the potential fight before it could start. He pushed Aramis back towards their table and spent a few minutes placating the market trader, eventually buying them some drinks. He made eye contact briefly with both Porthos and Aramis as he returned to their table. Their subterfuge was playing out as they had wanted. Porthos leaned forward towards Aramis ready to lay the seeds of the eventual argument the pair would have.

When Aramis stormed off to sit alone Porthos watched his friend for a few minutes. Athos wondered if the barbed comments they both had made were perhaps a little too personal. He wondered if they had said things that they really thought. He hoped not.

Pierre wandered over to them, he leaned down and said a few words to Porthos who nodded. As he walked away, Pierre subtly pointed at a man sat with his back to Porthos, but close enough to be able to hear them. Athos realised it must be the man Barbotin had seen potentially drug the wine. He could not see the man's face, but he looked well dressed.

Porthos turned back to them both.

'Sorry,' he said, loud enough that the man would be able to hear the conversation.

'Why are you apologising to us? You were both as bad as each other,' said d'Artagnan with a fake smile.

'Yeah,' said Porthos with another glance at Aramis who had been given another cup of wine by a couple of soldiers they recognised from the other garrison. 'He's rubbish when he's had a drink.'

Athos said, 'you are not much better, Porthos.'

Porthos nodded, Athos wondered if his friend had really thought about the things he and Aramis had said. Aramis had looked genuinely hurt by the final comment about his childhood from Porthos.

'I'll apologise to 'im in the morning when we've both sobered up a bit.'

'See that you do,' said Athos, hoping their plan was going to work and they could get back to normal as soon as possible.

MMMM

Porthos and d'Artagnan had left the tavern fairly quickly after the pretend argument. Pierre had followed them in case the suspect decided to pursue Porthos.

Nothing untoward had happened to them or Aramis and Athos as they walked back to the garrison about an hour later.

Once they were all back at the garrison, the men all met in the mess. Barbotin and Pierre had explained fully how they had seen the well-dressed man approach the bar in the tavern and pull a small vial from his pocket. It looked as though he was leaning over the bottle that was destined for Aramis and Porthos. But one of the other soldiers had stepped in the way at the very moment the Musketeers needed a clear line of sight. They could not be one hundred per cent sure that the man was responsible.

Both Aramis and Porthos had confirmed that the wine did taste a little odd, which made them believe it had been drugged. The suspect had looked like he was watching the Musketeers and trying to listen to them throughout the evening. But when Porthos left with d'Artagnan and later Aramis with Athos the man had remained where he was until the tavern had closed shortly afterwards. Barbotin had lost the man as they left in the crowd of soldiers and other patrons.

'And you're not feeling ill?' Porthos had asked as he eyed Aramis carefully.

Aramis smiled reassuringly, 'I think, if Lemay's concoction had not worked, I would be showing the effects by now.'

'I suggest we retire to bed, in the morning you both start work on the next part of the plan,' Athos had said before they broke up the meeting.

As they walked from the garrison the following morning in the early morning sunshine, Aramis had dropped back a couple of paces, affecting a careful walk. Athos recognised the attempt to alleviate the effects of a headache, he intended to congratulate his friend on his acting skills when the sordid affair was over.

The fake assignment to recapture an escaped criminal led them away from the centre of Paris, they hoped the sparsely populated area would make it easier for Barbotin and Pierre to spot the suspect if he was following them. The two undercover Musketeers had been forced to make themselves even dirtier in case the suspect recognised them from the night before. Barbotin, a usually very neat man, had baulked at the idea of wiping mud on his face to disguise himself. Pierre had not been bothered in the slightest, reminding them that he used to work on a small farm and was not averse to the dirt.

D'Artagnan had suggested the old brick-built barn to stage the next act of their plan, he had found it with Constance's help whilst he had been teaching her to shoot. They had both had a narrow escape when one of the roof beams had cracked and crashed down near them. They knew it would not take much to engineer a total collapse of the building.

Aramis had been a little sceptical and worried about Porthos getting out of the building in time. Porthos had told him not to worry, causing d'Artagnan to call them both a married couple worrying about each other's wellbeing all the time. D'Artagnan rubbed at his arm where Porthos had slapped him hard after the remark. A moment of levity which had been welcome, if bruising, for them all.

'You need to at least pretend to be fit, Aramis,' said Athos loudly enough for the suspect to hear them if he was nearby, they needed to maintain the pretence that the drug had affected them.

Lemay had suggested the drug would possibly leave them a little worse for wear the next morning which had led to Aramis pretending he had a bad headache and Porthos pretending he was affected but not as badly.

'I'm fine.'

Porthos pulled a face as he glanced back to his friend, 'guess I can 'old me drink better then.'

D'Artagnan and Athos allowed the others to walk ahead and proceeded to continue to lay the story that their friends were not talking to each other.

'Have they apologised to each other yet?' asked Athos as he subtly looked around for any signs of their suspect.

D'Artagnan replied, 'I think Porthos might have just blown his chance of getting an apology. Aramis said to me earlier he had every intention of talking to him, but after that remark, I don't think Aramis will be ready for a while.'

Athos shook his head, 'we had better keep an eye on them, the sooner we get this building searched the better. They nearly came to blows earlier, I do not want a repeat of that in public.'

They had decided to add a bit of drama to the invented disagreement for the benefit of the suspect.

As they entered the barn, they had a few seconds where they could talk quietly without being overheard.

'Be careful,' said Aramis as he passed Porthos to lean on the stairway on the off chance the suspect could see them in the barn.

The concern Aramis was showing was reflected on d'Artagnan's face and Athos suspect his own. Porthos was going to have to get out of the back of the building quickly and hide before the dust settled. Obviously, the ruse that Porthos had been killed would be blown if the suspect was also hiding at the back of the building but they were expecting him to be watching from the front.

'When am I not careful?' said Porthos with a grin.

'Would you like a list?' asked Athos with a wry grin of his own.

As they spoke, they made a point of looking around, searching for the fictitious prisoner except for Aramis who pretended to be suffering from the effects of the drug.

Treville had enlisted an architect acquaintance to help them bring the building down. D'Artagnan wandered over to the spot where they knew they needed to move a support beam to trigger the wanted chain of events.

As the first beam splintered Athos pushed d'Artagnan out. Athos had to trust that Porthos would do his part and bodily push an apparently unalert Aramis out of the way of the collapsing building before getting himself to safety from the back entrance.

As he exited the building, he was aware of a body hitting the cobbles. Porthos had done his job and pushed Aramis from the building with a little more force than necessary. Aramis had stumbled to the floor, he was trying to scramble up. Athos realised he needed to stop Aramis from reacting too quickly or it would be obvious he had not been affected by any drug. He stepped forward and dragged Aramis a few feet away from the building, preventing him from getting to his feet for a few seconds to help add to the illusion that his friend was under the influence of the drug.

The building's collapse was total, no more than a pile of bricks and splintered wood remained. It took a few minutes for the dust to settle during which time Aramis got to his feet and started to move towards the rubble. Athos held him back with d'Artagnan's help. Athos got the impression that they were really holding him back at some points.

'No, Aramis,' said Athos firmly, 'he can't have survived that…'

When Aramis was released, he slowly walked up to the edge of the pile of bricks that had been the barn. Athos watched in silence as his friend crossed himself and stared at the bricks. The worrying part of the plan was that they did not know for certain that Porthos had, in fact, got out of the back of the building in time, there was a chance he was buried somewhere under the rubble.

'Why didn't he get out? He was right next to me...he...he pushed me out of the way...he saved me…' said Aramis, injecting a hint of panic in his voice as he spoke.

Athos rested his hand on Aramis' shoulder, 'it could have been any one of us, it could have been all of us.'

Aramis turned away and walked a few paces before turning back, 'I was going to apologise...about last night, but then he laughed at me so I didn't...now I can't…'

Athos was impressed to see Aramis with real tears spilling from his eyes. The act was convincing, but there was still the uncertainty that was worrying them all. Aramis walked off his head bowed.

'Will he be alright?' asked d'Artagnan.

'I don't know,' replied Athos before he turned back to the remains of the building.

Quieter, d'Artagnan asked, 'do you think he got out?'

'Of course, he did,' replied Athos with another look at the remains of the barn.

MMMM


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Aramis walked away from the site of the barn, he made sure to keep his head down as if he was grieving. He hoped the pretence would not become a reality. Porthos had known it was a risk when the plan had been suggested. But the architect had assured them the back of the barn would collapse last giving their friend time to slip out of the back as the chaos reigned at the front.

He had not expected to be pushed as hard as he was. Porthos was probably keen to make it look realistic by putting plenty of space between them when Aramis was shoved from the building. It had taken him a few seconds to remember the act when he first got to his feet and turned back to the barn, if Athos and d'Artagnan had not been holding him back he might have charged back into the building to look for his friend.

Now he was walking away, not knowing if the plan was working, not knowing if Porthos had managed to get out without getting injured or worse and not really knowing how he was going to enact the, hopefully, final part of their convoluted plan.

'Please sir…' came a weak voice to his left.

Aramis glanced over and saw Pierre crouched on the ground, making the most of his small stature to look as pathetic as he possibly could. The young Musketeer had really proven himself over the previous day.

With feigned distraction Aramis reached for his money bag and pulled out a coin, he approached Pierre and bent over to press the coin into his hand.

'The man's following you. Barbotin managed to get ahead of him to tell me, he saw the building collapse...the plan's working…'

Pierre had whispered the words as he clasped Aramis' hand in apparent thanks for the donation.

Aramis stepped back and wandered off, he wished he could turn around and look for the man who had been trying to drug Porthos and himself. They could not work out who would go to such lengths to cause them harm. The man was on his third attempt now, the first time only Porthos had drunk the wine, Aramis remembered being distracted that night and not getting to the wine before Porthos had pretty much finished it. The second time only he had drunk the wine but had become ill so quickly that its true effect was not known to him, and now they were having to guess what effect the wine should be having on them.

Porthos had said that the day after they guessed he had been drugged he was a bit groggy and distracted, but he had hidden the symptoms at the time thinking it was just the effects of drinking too much the day before.

The next part of the plan was not the part Aramis was looking forward to. It had been bad enough watching the building collapse, not knowing if Porthos was alright or not. Now he was relying on Porthos being fine as he put himself in danger.

With a silent prayer, Aramis turned towards the market and sought out the tradesman he had almost picked a fight with the previous night.

MMMM

D'Artagnan watched Aramis walk away for a few seconds before looking back at the remains of the barn.

Athos started to follow Aramis saying, 'we should follow him, make sure he's alright.'

D'Artagnan nodded as he looked around one last time, hoping for a glimpse of their suspect. Aramis was far enough ahead of them to not hear them speaking, but if the suspect was closer, they wanted him to know they were concerned for their friend.

'That aggression he showed towards Porthos earlier, it'll be worse now,' said d'Artagnan, 'he'll be eaten up with guilt, he could get himself in trouble…'

The act continued as they followed their friend. D'Artagnan spotted Barbotin slipping off around a building and wondered what he was up to. They had seen him walking between them and Aramis and knew he was watching the suspect. But as they walked further into the city there were too many men walking along the roads for him to work out which was the suspect. Ideally, they wanted the man to react negatively when the final part of their plan was played out. Then they were going to confront him.

Aramis stopped and talked to a beggar for a few seconds. The Musketeer absentmindedly dropped a coin into the dirty man's hand. The man thanked Aramis before allowing him to carry on.

As they drew closer to the beggar he stood up and fell into step beside them, d'Artagnan was surprised to see the beggar was actually Pierre in disguise.

'The man,' said Pierre quietly, 'he's up there, dark read doublet, light brown hair.'

Pierre pointed to the man in question.

Athos nodded, 'get around to the market...we need to be ready in case Porthos does not get there in time.'

'I can't believe he's going to do this,' said Pierre with a shake of his head.

'It was his idea, he has confidence in Porthos,' said Athos.

D'Artagnan was not sure Athos had the same confidence that Aramis did.

Pierre slipped away along a side road, breaking into a run once he was off the main street.

They continued to follow Aramis as he turned towards the market. The Musketeer was obviously looking for someone, pausing at some of the market stalls to look at each of the men, it took him a few minutes to find the man he was looking for.

'Remember we have to wait for Porthos...or Aramis to indicate he's had enough…'

D'Artagnan nodded, none of them liked the plan, but if Aramis was careful, he would not get into too much danger.

Aramis walked up to the stall holder that he had been grabbed by the previous night. The Musketeer pointed his finger at the man and said something that they could not hear. But whatever it was it got the man's attention. The big broad man had been sat on a pile of sacks as Aramis approached him. He pulled himself up to stand, the man was a little taller than Aramis and much stockier, they doubted he would be much of a fighter, but he would certainly be able to hold his own against the slighter man who was now confronting him.

Athos nudged d'Artagnan and nodded towards their suspect who was taking a great interest in the proceedings. They guessed he would be happy to see the Musketeer hurt or killed by the stall holder. The man stepped closer peering over the crowd of men who had gathered around the arguing pair.

The stallholder had to make the first move. Aramis could not strike the man first, he could only defend himself. The man grabbed at Aramis' doublet fisting the material in his big hand. The move pulled Aramis a little off balance and to continue the pretence that he was suffering from the effects of the drug he allowed the man to punch him.

The punch swung the slighter man around and totally off balance. The stall holder lost his grip on Aramis at the same time. Aramis almost crashed to the ground.

Almost.

He was grabbed by two more stall holders. D'Artagnan realised they had been at the table the night before as well. They hauled Aramis back to his feet and twisted him around to face the first man again, holding him tightly between them.

'Not what we wanted to happen,' remarked Athos.

'We've got to stop this,' said d'Artagnan as he took a step forward.

His advance was stopped by Athos' hand on his arm.

'Give Porthos a little while longer, the crowd is quite big-'

'What if he's not coming, what if he really is under that pile of rubble,' protested d'Artagnan.

He glanced at Athos for a second and saw the concern on his face. A muffled cry of pain and a few jeering shouts made d'Artagnan look back towards Aramis.

Whatever had happened had left the Musketeer on the ground with the man he had confronted about to draw his foot back and kick him.

It was Athos turn to move forward, d'Artagnan did not stop him, they both knew they had to stop what was about to happen. Aramis had been willing to be knocked about a bit to get the suspect interested but none of them wanted to see him seriously hurt.

The two men started to push through the crowd of people but stopped when they heard an angry shout ahead of them. D'Artagnan could not help a sigh of relief as Porthos charged towards the man who had just kicked Aramis. Porthos pulled the man away from his friend and shoved him towards his friends glaring at them all.

'Leave him alone,' said Porthos firmly, pulling his gun as he did so.

The stall holders backed off as Porthos crouched down and hooked his hand under Aramis' arm and slowly pulled him up.

They watched as Porthos said something to Aramis who nodded. Porthos slipped his arm around his friend's waist and started to back away from the stall holders. The crowd parted to let them through. As they reached an alleyway Porthos turned them both around and they ducked out of sight.

The stall holders made a few rude gestures in the direction of the disappearing soldiers but otherwise did not react.

Athos pointed towards the suspect who looked very put out and moved through the crowd in the direction that Porthos and Aramis had disappeared.

'I think,' said Athos, 'it is time to meet our friend's persecutor…'

MMMM

_Earlier..._

After firmly pushing Aramis out of the collapsing building Porthos had his work cut out to get to the back of the building before he was caught within it. As it was, he ended up throwing himself out of the rear entrance, picking up several cuts and grazes in the process. The sleeve of his doublet had ridden up a bit leaving his forearm exposed. He spent a few seconds brushing himself down and picking out a few of the larger pieces of grit from his arm.

As the dust began to settle, he moved further away, he passed some people rushing towards the scene of the collapse. They knew the old barn had been abandoned for some months due to its dilapidated state, but the incident had still drawn a crowd.

'Are you alright son?' asked an older man, resting his hand on Porthos' injured arm.

Not willing to rudely brush the man off Porthos nodded, 'I was looking for someone, I got out just in time…'

'I could clean that arm up for you if you want,' said the man.

Porthos could tell the man was lonely and wanted company.

'Sorry, monsieur,' Porthos said, 'but I can deal with it.'

He stepped away from the man and hurried off. He needed to get to the market, preferably before Aramis did, so that he could be in position to step out and stop the fight Aramis was going to instigate. They hoped the suspect would be shocked by his reappearance and give himself away by doing something stupid.

Pulling his sleeve down to cover the grazes on his arm Porthos moved through the back streets. He avoided the women who were plying their trade and stepped around a few unfortunate beggars.

As he neared the market, he knew he was too late, he had let his friend down by not getting there quick enough. Aramis had deliberately put himself in danger on the proviso that Porthos would prevent if becoming more than a couple of punches.

A crowd had gathered around the stall holder and Aramis. Porthos could see that his friend had already been punched once and was now being restrained by two other stall holders. Aramis was trying to pull free of the men but did not have time as his legs were swept from under him by the big man that Aramis had squared up to the previous night.

Aramis crashed to the ground hard and took a few seconds to gather his wits. The short delay was all the man needed. He pulled back his foot and kicked Aramis in the chest causing his friend to let out a cry of pain. As the stall holder kicked Aramis a second time Porthos managed to get himself to the front of the crowd.

He yelled as he grabbed the man and spun him away, shoving him towards his friends. Porthos pulled his gun from his belt, pleased that his weapons had not been lost as he scrambled out of the collapsing building earlier.

'Leave him alone.'

Aramis was still on the ground, a dazed expression on his face. Porthos crouched down and pulled him up, annoyed at causing his friend to wince in pain by the action.

'Can you make it back to the garrison? We need to get out of here before they decide there are more of them than us.'

Aramis managed a nod, 'the sooner the better, if you don't mind.'

Porthos could not agree more, he helped Aramis back a few paces before turning them towards an alleyway and slipping away, leaving the market behind them.

MMMM

As Porthos helped Aramis away Athos and d'Artagnan followed the suspect. The man had broken away from the crowd a look of shock on his face. D'Artagnan could not help a smile as he wondered what was going through the man's mind. Porthos, who had apparently been killed in the building collapse, was very much alive and rescuing the man he had been arguing with hours before.

The man pushed passed a couple of onlookers and followed Porthos and Aramis. Porthos was still supporting his friend who was not having to pretend to be injured. They knew Aramis was likely to be on the receiving end of a couple of punches but had not expected him to be kicked to the ground and beaten. Aramis was not acting any longer, which left them at a real disadvantage. Porthos was now distracted looking after his friend as the poisoner approached them both from behind.

Athos moved quicker, d'Artagnan followed a step behind. They did not want to shout out and potentially scare the man off. They needed to see him make a move, they had little evidence against him.

The man had slowly unbuttoned his doublet and pulled out a gun which had been tucked out of sight. He raised the weapon and aimed at Porthos' back.

Athos broke into a full run, yelling as he did so. They had enough evidence as soon as the man aimed the gun, with several witnesses it would be difficult for the man to deny he had been trying to shoot a Musketeer in the back.

The yell from Athos was enough to make Porthos turn. The poisoner fired his gun, the ball going wide of its mark as Athos threw himself at the man and took him to the ground. The man tried to scramble away from Athos but found his escape halted by d'Artagnan who had put his foot on the man's loose doublet preventing him from moving as Athos regained his hold on the man.

D'Artagnan looked across to Porthos and Aramis who had both fallen to the floor when Porthos turned, his balance off due to supporting Aramis. The pair were looking on, Porthos, his arm around Aramis' shoulders for support looked a little shocked.

'That was closer than I would have liked,' he said.

D'Artagnan helped Athos to restrain the man as Porthos eased Aramis back up to stand. They pulled the attacker to his feet.

'Why can't you two just die?' said the man with venom.

'If you wanted to kill us why not just shoot us in the first place?' suggested Aramis. 'What have we done to you?'

The man looked away.

'Answer the question,' said Athos.

The man remained silent.

It was Porthos who answered for the man, 'I remember you,' he said, 'you were one of the men we stopped from bothering a couple of prostitutes who didn't want your custom. Didn't you end up in the Chatelet for a few days?'

D'Artagnan shook his head, 'is that what this was? Revenge?'

'I still don't understand why you didn't just shoot us, why go to all this trouble?'

'Because I was less likely to be caught. You were meant to get in a fight and the drug would have dulled your abilities...why didn't it work?'

D'Artagnan smiled, 'that, my friend, is none of your business.'

MMMM

For the second time in a few days, Porthos helped Aramis into the garrison infirmary. This time they were alone.

'It's not that bad,' said Aramis as Porthos pushed him into a chair.

'Shall I go and find a cadet for you to spar with then?'

Aramis looked away, annoyed at being called out by his friend.

'Alright it is bad, my ribs are definitely bruised, but I don't think any are broken. What about you?'

'What about me?'

'You had to escape a collapsing building, you're covered in dirt and dust and your wrist is bleeding.'

Porthos stared at Aramis for a few seconds before grinning broadly.

'At least we got him,' he said as he wandered away to gather water and some cloths.

'Just wish it had been easier,' replied Aramis as he started to undo his doublet after awkwardly removing his weapons belts.

They sat in silence for a few minutes as they cleaned themselves up, Porthos allowed Aramis to clean his grazed arm before glaring at him for a few seconds when he wanted to pay back the favour. Aramis allowed his friend to inspect his ribs and to satisfy himself that Aramis was correct that none were broken.

As Aramis allowed Porthos to help him to redress he noticed his friend had a rather pensive expression.

'What's the matter? You look guilty about something…'

Porthos sighed, 'I wanted to apologise, when there was no one else around. This is the first time we've been alone since we had our argument.'

'Our pretend argument,' said Aramis, unsure what Porthos' problem was.

'I know it was pretend and I know we had agreed to insult each other, it's just...when I said about your childhood. You looked really hurt.'

Aramis looked down for a few seconds, 'I must admit I wasn't expecting you to say something like that, but I had just made a remark about your childhood, so it did fit.'

'I don't think any less of you. You know that don't you? Just because I now know where I'm from...not that I'm very impressed with them.'

Aramis smiled at his friend, 'I know you didn't intend to say something mean, you had to come up with something quickly and what you said was the truth.'

Aramis was pleased to see Porthos looking vindicated. His friend had probably been worried about the remark since making it.

'Now that we are friends again,' said Aramis after a few seconds, 'would you mind helping me over to the mess. I've starving, we've had a busy morning getting killed and picking fights with people.'

Porthos laughed as he helped Aramis up.

'Let's try not to annoy anyone else today, shall we?'

The End.

**Authors note: I hope you enjoyed it.**


End file.
